


Moment's Reprieve

by Alletsiva (Avistella)



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, POV Second Person, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avistella/pseuds/Alletsiva
Summary: Alfonse touches himself to the thought of you.





	Moment's Reprieve

Even if he is a prince, Alfonse is still very much a young man with certain desires. A desire to touch and be touched. A desire to hold and be held. A desire to give warmth and receive it in kind. Often times, the young man can keep these underlying urges in check, making sure that he maintains his royal decorum around the castle. There are people in the realm who argue that Alfonse already doesn’t behave as a prince ought to anyways, but that pride he holds won’t allow him to use that as an excuse to indulge himself in his wishes.

But there are other times, such as today for example, when you, the the one he holds deep feelings for, makes things difficult for the young man to maintain his composure. It’s a hot afternoon of summer, so it makes sense and comes as little surprise that you have ditched your heavy cloak for something more fitting for the weather. One of the Heroes had taken you out shopping a week prior, and you had taken that chance to buy yourself some new outfits for the season. Of course, Alfonse never saw these outfits of yours until now.

The Askran prince is surprised to find that his kingdom even sold such revealing (but not outrightly scandalous) outfits like the one you’re currently wearing. Although, now that he thinks about it, you may have asked for some adjustments and modifications to be made since the outfits in Askr seem different from what you’re used to from back home.

You wear a simple but cute shirt with modest lace trimmings. It’s a plain white colour and stops just above your waist which shows a bit of skin every now and then with your movements. Coupled with that, you have opted to wear black shorts far shorter than what Alfonse is used to seeing, revealing much more of your legs to him that it makes him blush.

Alfonse’s eyes follow your figure as you mindlessly walk around the open grassy area. You seem to be lost in your own thoughts as you don’t even notice the not so discreet group of mischievous Heroes that are slowly advancing behind you. Within that group, they’re carrying what looks to be a heavy bucket filled with water. The Askran prince watches with curiosity, debating with himself as to whether or not he should make you aware of their presence, but it’s too late.

A surprised yelp echoes in the air as the Heroes throw their bucket of cold water on your unsuspecting form. You sharply turn around on your heels, prepared to scold the culprits, but they’re already dashing away to safety while laughing the entire time. You can’t bring yourself to get angry at them, thinking that these moments are nice to have every once in a while. Instead, you sigh with fond exasperation while shaking your head.

You still haven’t realized Alfonse’s presence nearby or his gaze on your body, much more intense than it was before. Alfonse’s heart jumps several beats against his chest as he watches you comb your dripping hair back and away from your face. Your white shirt has become see-through, and the prince swallows the lump in his throat when you bunch up the fabric of your shirt to squeeze out the excess water.

Alfonse doesn’t linger a moment longer, his footsteps rushing to reach the privacy of his room. He breathes out a quiet sigh to himself when he reaches his destination without trouble. He shuts the door behind him and leans back against it while his eyelids slowly fall shut. Right away, his mind conjures the image of you all soaked with your clothes clinging to your body and doing little to hide your figure.

The young prince whimpers softly in the silence, heat coursing through his body at the mental image alone. He raises his hand and lets his palm brush along his crotch, breathing out a quiet sigh at the contact. He rubs himself with gentle motions through his clothes, the friction causing his body temperature to rise even more in this unbearable heat.

He shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be touching himself so intimately like this to the thought of you, but his resolve wanes and crumbles the more he palms himself through the fabric of his outfit. His knees are already starting to feel weak, and he’s certain he won’t be able to support himself properly if he keeps this up.

With an exhaled sigh of frustration, the young man peels himself away from the door and starts to free himself from his clothes. There’s a sense of impatience in his actions as he strips himself bare, warm air meeting warm skin. The articles of clothing are left as a haphazard pile on the floor, the freedom of them helping alleviate by a fraction the warmth Alfonse is feeling. His feet pad over to his bed to lie down, and another sigh slips past him as his body sinks into the mattress to make himself comfortable.

Deep blue eyes stare up at the dull ceiling for a while, internally debating with himself on whether or not he’s really going to do this before he makes up his mind. His eyelids flutter shut. His mind’s eye brings up the image of your figure once more, your dampened clothes sticking to your body as beads of water trail down your skin.

Alfonse allows himself to revel in the image and admire you. His places his hand atop his toned chest and trails a slow path downwards. He imagines that it’s your sweet hand that’s touching him so tantalizingly like this, and he involuntarily shudders. He would give _anything_ to have your fingers on him, nails lightly tracing the skin of his figure.

His fingers dance along the expanse of his stomach, travelling further and further down to the place he’s aching to be touched. His mental image of you smiles at him, almost like you’re encouraging him as he tentatively curls his fingers around his girth, drawing out a shaky breath. It isn’t the first time he’s explored with his private parts like this, but he was merely acting on curiosity as a growing young man. This time, _he has you_ , and it starts a blazing fire in the pit of his stomach.

Alfonse starts off agonizingly slow, starting from the base of his cock all the way to the head. His rhythm is more experimental than it is anything else, almost hesitant. He has to remind himself to be consciously aware of his surroundings. All sorts of people pass through this hallway after all, and the young man doesn’t think he’ll ever let it go if somebody were to overhear him.

The Askran prince has other duties to tend to later, so he can’t take too long here. But even so, he wants to take as long as he can with this. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Alfonse starts to increase his pace by a little, his thumb catching the beads of precum that start to form at the tip of his hardening cock and spreading it around with his strokes for an easier glide.

He slips an accidental moan of your name from his lips, his head slowly rolling to the side of his pillow. With his free hand, he runs his palm across his heaving chest with the occasional pinch on the sensitive peaked nubs as he continues to pump himself. Your name is so pretty, he finds, and it suits someone as pretty as you. But you’re not _just_ pretty. You are so much _more_.

Alfonse elicits a sharp gasp from his own mouth as he bucks his hips once into his stroking hand, his heart beating faster and faster the more he thinks about you, the target of his affection. He loves you and everything about you. He loves your determined eyes, your soft hair, your enticing lips… He loves your wonderful voice.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear your voice uttering his name in his ear. “ _Alfonse_ …”

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes his heart skip a beat every time. But the young prince can’t help but wonder what your voice would sound like if you were to moan out his name, as breathless as he is right now. Would your pitch rise? Would you drawl out the syllables? 

What kind of delictable sounds would you make as you sink yourself down on his throbbing cock, so ready and willing for you and you alone? Would you whimper or whine with that cute little voice of yours? Would you choke out a pleasured gasp at the way he fills you completely, so warm and rubbing against all the right places that would send shivers down your spine?

All the different imaginations he has rile him up even more, stroking himself harder and faster as his chest heaves with his ragged breathing, hips lifting off the bed to meet with his pumps. But more than anything, Alfonse wants to know how you would feel and how you would react when wrapped around his sensitive flesh. Would your legs tremble and quake as you squeeze yourself tighter against him? Would your eyes be closed shut in bliss or stare deeply into his own as you roll your hips against his, moaning his name over and over again?

_It’s too hot._ Beads of sweat frame the prince’s face and decorates his form, his hard and slickened cock feeling hot and heavy against his palm. He squeezes a bit tighter, imagining that it’s your warm walls clenching around him, pulling him even deeper into you and not wanting to be separated. He starts to thrust wildly in tandem with his harsh and strong strokes, the springs of the mattress creaking with his frenzied movements.

Your name repeatedly tumbles out from his lips like a broken prayer, almost like if he says it enough times then maybe you’ll magically appear on top of him and share in this electrifying sensation. Maybe you’ll ride his cock with abandon, the two of you forgetting the world and everything else, only focusing on each other and the way you make one another feel. Maybe, just maybe if’s permitted to delude as such, you would lean down close to him, your breasts pressing flush against his chest while kissing him with an immeasurable amount of love and adoration.

A mixture of a strangled cry and moan much louder than anything before escapes Alfonse’s lips at the imagery, and he has to slap his free hand over his mouth. His pace falters for a second, but he dares not stop here. He whimpers and whines against his palm, muffling his voice while losing himself more and more to the pleasure that builds up inside him. His room becomes filled with the lewd sounds of rhythmic slapping skin and the creaking bed, making the prince increasingly dizzy. His body writhes against the usually pristine sheets, unable to decide for himself if he wants his release now or prolong this feeling even longer.

Just how many times has he thought about taking you by the hand and leading you both to a quiet place where you can both give in to your mutual desires together without worry? How many times has he imagined little scenarios in that naughty mind of his in which he shoves you, so desperate and needy for him, up against the wall and just taking you right then and there? How many times has he romantically visualized a beautiful night underneath the stars while making sweet love to each other, wrapped in one another’s warm and tight embrace?

Alfonse frees his mouth from his clamped hand. “ _I love you_ ,” he gasps out amidst his broken moans and punctuated grunts. He will never say these words out loud. Not yet, at least. Not when there’s so much at stake with the war and keeping the realm safe from invading forces. But just this once, the Askran prince allows himself this brief moment of honesty. With the young man naked on his bed and with his desires on full blatant display like this, there really isn’t any need for secrecy.

“I love you,” he repeats, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes from both the pleasure and overwhelming emotions flowing from his heart. His pumps and thrusts are erratic, practically mindless by now as he quickly approaches the tipping point with his cock throbbing and twitching against his palm.

His mental image of you seems almost real to him as you smile back with a certain fondness he rarely sees, your hand stroking his cheek. “ _And I love you._ ”

**That is his undoing.** Alfonse’s eyes clench themselves shut tight, throwing his head back against his pillow. He cries out as his face contorts with pure unadulterated bliss, cumming long and hard with his body wracking against the sheets with satisfying jolts of pleasure. His cock twitches with his release, ropes of white spurting out and staining his hand and stomach while his hips continue to thrust weakly into his hand. Slowly, he starts to come down from his high, throat parched and vision blurry as he tries to regain his surroundings and catch his breath.

Alfonse swallows thickly as he stares up at the ceiling, his body still twitching from the lingering sensations of his climax before a sense of shame starts to eat at him with the realization that he just came to the thought of you, his trusted partner.

There’s a gentle knock on the door that breaks him out of his stupor, and the Askran prince scrambles to cover himself up with the blankets. While it is common courtesy for one to gain the owner’s permission before opening the door, Alfonse can’t take any chances with anybody finding out about what just transpired in his room.

“Alfonse? Are you in there?” Your voice comes from the other side of the door, and his heart starts to pick up speed once more.

“Y-Yes,” the prince stammers, trying to keep his tone even but is still breathless. “Has something happened?”

“Commander Anna is looking for you,” you answer, completely unaware of the current state of the Askran prince. “She said to meet her at her office.”

“Understood. Thank you for telling me.”

You respond with a quick hum of acknowledgement before taking your leave. Alfonse strains his ears to listens to your footsteps walk away before exhaling a sigh of relief. He needs to quickly clean himself up and get going before anybody can start asking questions about his absence. There is still much more work to be done.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more of my works on [my Tumblr](http://avistella.tumblr.com/)


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